


The Right To

by TheWritingMustache



Category: Prototype (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, And the Blacklight Virus as a voice, Depression, Dissociation, F/M, Inspired by Music, Mental Instability, Past Relationship(s), Slice of Life, living on minimum wage, the suburbs, yes there is a difference between Blacklight and Zeus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingMustache/pseuds/TheWritingMustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't live, per say, but rather just exists. It's work, work, and more work at a lowly minimum wage job with little of anything in between. He doesn't have time for sleep, or relationships, or that voice in his head telling him to just quit. Life is mundane, but exhausting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Graveyard Shift on Time

The graveyard shift is probably the most pointless job in the entire world. Particularly for grocery stores. The store closed at midnight, but did that mean they could go home? Oh, no, no it didn't. Doors were locked, and so it was time to do re-stocking, re-arranging, all that fun stuff. And it was just the three of them. Two kids wading their way through college, and him. It was long, and boring, and Alex desperately wished he could just go home and get a couple hours of sleep before he had to wake up again at seven.

Nine to five, and nine to five. In the same store. Because Heller fucking hated him. And because he needed the money and Heller knew that too. Fucking Heller. Ugh. Alex could sit there and explain to the chip aisle all the reasons why he hated his manager and how one day his body was gonna end up in the frozen foods section, right there on the shelf between Lean Cuisine and Weight Watchers. Which, wouldn't be the first time that happened…

What was he even doing here? Alex asked himself this question a lot, especially here neatly putting Lays bags into rows and rows of that godawful yellow color. Six years of schooling, getting a diploma, his masters, and then boom, debt out the wazoo, a life he can barely afford to live. Everything just kinda sucked, and he worked double shifts at the supermarket with a managed from hell. What in the fuck was he even doing-

_POP_

Alex jumped back in surprise as potato chips suddenly rained on his shoes. He popped another bag. The second one this week. He wasn't getting payed enough to be piss at life during work. He threw the chip bag down on the ground and stomped off to get a broom.

* * *

 

It's five-forty by the time he tromps up the steps to this apartment. The great thing about this time of the morning is that there's no traffic and he can cross roads without worrying about cars. This town has a million blind spots, and it's so easy to nearly get run over by some asshole on his cellphone who's speeding through the neighborhood. Yet, between eight P.M and seven A.M, everybody was off the road and didn't dare get back on it.

They lived in the suburbs, for fuck's sake.

Alex only lived down the road from the store. Which was one of the main roads in town that connect to two other main roads in town. But anywhere Alex wanted to go, he could just get to. Everything was in relative walking distance. Anything farther out, he biked to. Anything farther farther, well…He couldn't afford it anyway. His apartment was modest, to say the least. Well, maybe not really modest, just a box with a bed and kitchenette, and one little door to the bathroom. Home sweet home. Alex doesn't bother with eating or showering, just throws off his work uniform and flops onto bed. He's dead tired, and the moment his eyes close, he's out like a light.

Seven A.M came here in the form of a blaring alarm clock. Alex punched his clock off the nightstand.

* * *

 

Going to work in the morning reminds Alex of all the reasons why he actually likes the graveyard shift. At three A.M, there are no customers to deal with, or really any other employees. There is no Heller to deal with. There is no jam pack of customers swarming in to get their morning dose of overpriced shit at the Starbuck's counter. And there is no Elizabeth Greene to sexually harass him.

He was setting out the cases of muffins and assorted pies in the bakery section when he suddenly felt someone smack his ass.

"Ohh All, you been working out?" came Greene's giggle infested voice. He didn't even turn around, just stared mortified at blueberry muffins as Greene bounced away and some little old ladies laughed at him from where they were watching the whole thing happen. All the reasons why he sometimes actually did, like the graveyard shift.

* * *

 

There is cat that lives around his neighborhood (or as neighborly as a munch of giant rectangles can get). Everyone knows that cat. Everyone calls him Zeus. He is nobody's cat. Nobody outright owns him. And thus, he is the neighborhood cat. No one is actually allowed to own cats or dogs unless they want their rent to shoot through the roof. But there is Zeus, and he is no one's cat, yet at the same time, he is everyone's.

He sleeps on doorsteps or potted plants, on stairs and banisters, at the little playground in the back corner, or on top of cars. He is seen on the rooftops of the buildings, or on top of the garages. Zeus is everywhere, there's nothing that cat can't get to. Everyone helps take care of him. People will leave out bowls of food for him, and the old ladies have boxes and such of blankets left out for him to sleep in (not that Alex has ever actually seen the cat in them).

Whenever someone finds a bruised and battered Zeus on their doorstep, they immediately rush him to one of the many vet clinics around town, one of them being right near where Alex works. People will just happily drop hundreds of dollars on this cat they don't even own. Zeus likes to sleep on the stairs to his apartment the most.

Alex's neighbor's claim it's because they're so alike. Dark haired, blue eyes, generally introverted. Alex is never sure if he should take that as a compliment or not. Zeus, for as loved as he is, isn't really one for affection. He hates kids, and will hiss and spit at the, whenever they come near him. Alex doesn't blame him, he hates kids just as much. For being the neighborhood cat, Zeus is hardly neighborly. He's nice to you long enough to feed him or get him patched up after being by a car, but after that, you're in his way and he lets you know. There are no other cats around their whole complex because Zeus has probably chased them all off.

He's incredibly territorial, and can't even stand people who walk their dogs past the place, even if the dog is across the street. And it's Alex's stairs and door the damn furball spends the most time out. Alex has not once, ever fed him, or given him anything, nor has taken him to the vet. The most Alex has even done, is sat on top of the garages with him as they picked at some shit in a box Alex nuked in the microwave. It's the nicest he ever gets with Zeus. But that black ball of fuzz is still waiting for him when Alex arrives home from his day shift. Zeus wraps himself around his ankles as he unlocks the door. But when the door is open, Zeus takes off like a rocket and Alex doesn't see him again for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Alex doesn't own much. At least, not much that actually costs a lot of money to have. He has a smartphone and a laptop. That's it. Those are his only means of entertainment and communication. He does not have a TV, he wouldn't want to pay for cable anyway. He doesn't have a car, because the insurance would be unbearable. He owns a bike, however, but he mainly saves it for work because work is a mile away.

He doesn't really see the point in anything more than that. His moments spent at home were too precious to waste. He mainly slept, or ate, or showered between shifts. Alex didn't have time to be concerned about weekly TV shows, or paying for gas, or anything like that. It was a boring, uneventful life that left little room for much else.

He just, existed, and went to work. And that was good enough for him. Except for one particular night when he got off from work, and he checked his messages on his phone while waiting for a stoplight to change. Sudden plans for Sunday were made.

_'Hey, wanna meet up for lunch? -Karen'_


	2. Another Grueling 905

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't enough fics with a focus on Alex's and Karen's relationship and that makes me really angry. The first part of this fic exists for the sole reason of giving you unnecessary feels for those two.

Sundays were Alex's one day off, and that was by his own choice. Alex didn't know how to really relax, to just want to sit around and do nothing. It felt like a waste of time when he could so many more things. Sundays were laundry day, and grocery day (not at his store, god fucking forbid he found himself walking into work for food on a Sunday), and cleaning day. And sleeping day, he lived for sleeping day. The one day a week he could totally sleep for twenty-fours straight, the moment he got home from the night shift Sunday morning, to the morning shift on Monday morning.

This particular sunday, he dug up one of his nicer shirts, not too casual but not too formal, and biked himself to a small restaurant just down the road. He hadn't gone out to eat in, probably forever. Alex was very careful about what he spent his money on, and only two people in the world ever convinced him to splurge a little every now and again. And he was meeting one of them for lunch.

He met up with Karen at this little Mexican place just down the road. She cut her hair. It was shorter, more professional, it looked good on her. Alex told her as much when he wrapped her up in a hug when she arrived. And she just laughed at him, and reached up to play with a wayward curl on his own head.

"You could probably do with a cut yourself" Karen teased at him.

They used to date, once upon a time. Back in college, when the only things they had to worry about were acing tests, and having enough money for Chinese food, and trying not to laugh about the Bubonic Plague at three in the morning. Simpler times, before crippling student loans and trying to find people who'll hire them in a shit-tastic recession. They broke up years ago.

It didn't mean they stopped being friends, though. And it didn't mean Alex still didn't miss her. Their little lunches like these, far and few in between, somehow always went the same way for him. He wouldn't talk much, just listen to her instead. Listen to the sound of her voice, and just watch her talk.  He just kinda forgets he's out in public with a burrito hanging out of his mouth and sauce dribbling down his chin. He's focused on her, and only her. She's such a wonderful distraction.

"What about you, Alex?"

"….Huh?"

Oh.

"Alex, you weren't paying attention again, were you?"

"I was listening" Alex insists, picking up a napkin to wipe his face. "What do you want me to tell you? My life is practically uneventful compared to yours"

"Yeah?" Karen quirks a brow at him, tucking a hand underneath her chin. "Enlighten me anyway""

And it's probably the most he's talked in about two weeks. No one coaxes pointless conversation out of him than Karen. At work it's just "Hello, can i help you with something?", and "Need anything?", or "Have a nice day", then maybe "Do you need help with that to your car?". That's just only to customers, Alex rarely interacts with his own co-workers. To his own landlord, it's just "I get payed on Friday, I'll have rent in then".

But Karen? He could spend forever talking to Karen. Catching up on each other's lives eventually turns into just wild and random stories about whatever, or heated debates on the newest discoveries science had been making, or what new thing they were trying at the pharmaceutical company Karen worked at.

All too soon, their plates are cleared and they have to leave to avoid loitering any longer than may have already. Alex almost doesn't wanna say goodbye. It's like in one moment, he hates his apartment. He hates the idea of going back to a square box with next to nothing in it. But he lets her go, but not without one less embrace before it's another couple weeks before he sees her again.

"You be good, Alex" Karen says to him before she goes. "Please take care of yourself" and she kisses his cheek.

"No promises"

 

* * *

 

_You're so pathetically alone, you know that?_

_To quote old movies, she was the greatest good you ever had._

_Why do you even bother?_

_You're gonna miss her for the rest of your pitiful life._

_She'd never get back together with you, no matter how rich you suddenly become one day._

_You're nothing._

 

* * *

 

It takes a couple days to set in, but it came and it sucked. And everyone knew it. For as little as he talked to them, Alex's co-workers knew how he worked by now. They were knew when to really avoid him, when his face is blank and he's stumbling around the store in a haze. When the dark rings around his eyes become darker, and he's getting thin again.

Somehow there's always coffee in the break room. The very presence of that coffee is enough to invoke some emotion, extreme annoyance. The first time he sees it in the morning, Alex just scowls at the pot and stomps away. The second time he sees it, he's growling at it like much like Zeus does towards shih tzus. The third time he sees it, he finally retaliates and pours himself a cup, just to get rid of it so he doesn't have to look at it anymore. And then he's back to being a zombie with a mop.

Alex feels like he should be grateful towards his co-workers for looking out for him. But on these days, they avoid him like he has two heads. Or they'll be jittery around him as if he'll suddenly spout claws and disembowel them.

_You know they're all waiting for it._

_The day you snap._

_The day you become one of those guys on the news._

_They're all scared of you and you know it._

_They know you know._

One day his glare will be intense enough to melt down the whole frozen food section. But hopefully that day will be when he's not working here and Heller won't make him clean it all up.

 

* * *

 

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"

_Everyone needs a scapegoat._

"You're the bane of my existence"

_You've said worse._

"You're soooo lucky I can't afford pills to shut you out"

_I was so paranoid before._

Arguing with himself isn't healthy. Especially out loud, at two in the morning when he's sitting by himself in the wine aisle. But the bottles had heard this argument before. And so has the yogurt. And the lobster tank behind the meats counter. And so has the ice cream, and the ketchup. The magazine racks were due for a good ranting to.

Talking to himself was completely normal by this point. He only did it during the graveyard shift, and Dan and Taylor were on the opposite side of the store from him. Like, they just knew by now when to avoid him because he was having a heated debate about himself, with himself, and with whatever he was just re-stocking as his audience.

God bless Dan and Taylor, though. Those kids didn't mind working with a mentally unbalanced genius.

 

* * *

Yes, a genius! He used to have the best grades in school, the absolute best. His work was phenomenal, and everyone in the industry was cramming to get his attention, come work for us, come for us! Then the recession hit and no one could suddenly afford him. And then he couldn't afford life. He just took jobs up wherever he could, and he didn't bother with anything else. The economy got a little better, the field was opening up again…

But by that point, Alex had given up. Sure, there were some jobs opening up in town he easily could have applied for. Then one day, He just popped up in his head and Alex became terrified to even try again.


	3. From Credit Card to Check

He just showed up out of the blue. And it was that day that Alex knew he had finally snapped. How else was he supposed to feel about his own voice in his own head giving him the "Reason You Suck Speech" for everything he did? The answer was he didn't know, so he just assigned himself a gender in his head and went along with life like normal. Or as normal as it could get.

Thankfully this extra voice in his head picked and chose the moments it would suddenly assault him with barbs against his already crippled self-esteem. These moments were usually the night shift, or when Alex was utterly alone, or at home. Very rarely was it during the day around a large group of people. But quite normally, after lunches with his sister, or Karen.

Moments like those were Alex feels human, and He can't stand to let that happen. 

But it's not that bad yet. Alex hasn't given Him a name yet, nor is he talking to thin air as if there's another person next to him. He just mumbles arguments under his breath to himself as he re-stocks shelves or nukes a frozen dinner in his microwave. If he could afford it, he'd definitely go see a psychologist and get it checked out because mental diseases are the last things he needs to start developing, especially at thirty-two.

Really other than that, he's positively healthy. Mentally anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Elizabeth Greene fell in love with him the moment she laid eyes on him. It was Alex's first day of work at the store, a green around the gills bag boy with a useless degree in science. Heller had shoved Alex at her with strict instructions that Greene train him. As if he needed training as a bag boy of all things. But that was also the day Alex's extreme hatred for his manager began.

There were two kinds of unstableness in this world. There was Alex's kind, and then there was Greene's kind. And in comparison to Greene, Alex was arguably more sane than her. The customers generally found her unsettling, with her perpetual wide eyes and broad, toothy grin. It was like she had stolen the Cheshire Cat's face and wore it as a mask.

She didn't know boundaries with people, or at least, not with him. Since day one she was always touching him, getting in his face, and sneaking up behind him to grab at his ass (she said he had amazing glutes, he wasn't sure how to feel about that). Every February fifteenth, she filled his locker with Valentine's cards that all said "Be Mine" or "Sexy Thang" written in her flowery, loopy handwriting. And she bought all of them, simply because "They were just so cheap, I just had to!". Then after she said that, she kissed his cheek a couple dozen times as he stared out over her shoulder with a look on his face that easily read "shoot us both, please".

Green her had her moments, though. She had this incredible sense of when Alex was having one of _those_ weeks, and as such, would sometimes surprise him with treats from the Starbucks counter. And for once, she was smiling normally, and staring down at him in almost motherly manner that Alex otherwise unfamiliar with.

"Hang in there, Hotty McScotty" she'd say to him, and give him a thumbs up as she walked away. Elizabeth was actually the nicest person towards him on the entire staff. It was just kinda too bad that she was completely batshit crazy.

 

* * *

 

 

But James Heller though.

Heller didn't really like anybody. He also didn't really like his job. He was an ex-Marine, honorably discharged, also hit hard in the recession. Went from a respected Marine sergeant, to the eventual manager of a grocery store of all things. He looked incredibly out of place in a in their plain, store shirt and apron. He was a six foot mass of bulging muscles, a face locked in a scowl, and had it out for everyone who worked with him.

For whatever reason, he hated Alex the most. Just, the moment he saw him…It was hate at first sight. First day on the job, and he made one fanatic, and one enemy. He and Heller were forever locked, in eternal combat. Heller couldn't just _fire_ him for not liking him, and Alex couldn't find it in himself to quit his job just to avoid one person. The job market was so rickety right now, Alex didn't want to find out just how hard it was to get hired these days. Among other reasons.

So they just silently hated each other and merely retaliated in the most passive-aggressive manners possible. Quite honestly it was the one exciting thing about coming into work.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex received two surprises when he got home from his first shift. One was his baby sister sitting on the steps to his apartment. The other was the cat being pet and rubbed by said baby sister. Both were a weird sight, because Zeus still didn't like people (except for him of course in some weird way), and what in the actual fuck was his sister doing here?

Yes, Alex loved his little sister dearly and would never turn her away, and cherished every moment spent with her. But he always had to worry whenever she popped up unannounced because it naturally could only mean something had gone terribly wrong. Yet, Dana looked up at him with an excited grin on her face. Dana hopped up to her feet to attack him with hugs.

"Hey kiddo" Alex greets hers, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head.

"Hey bro!" Dana says back. "Hope you're not busy, caaaause I came to surprise you with my presence. You're welcome"

As if Alex could turn her away. Dana's the only person in the universe that's allowed to unexpectedly pop up at his apartment. She only lived on the other side of town, but like Karen, Alex saw so little of her, his life was mainly focused on the one whole road in town, and everyone he was remotely friendly with didn't live anywhere near it. But these little visits were welcome (but only from his sister)

His apartment always feels smaller when there's another person in it. It was already small to begin with, his bed and dresser literally the only two things that took up most of the room. He didn't even have a table in his tiny kitchen, nor any chairs. Alex generally didn't eat inside anyway, he normally just took a folding beach chair. chucked it on top of the garages, and climbed up to eat up there. But that wasn't something he was about to attempt with Dana.

"I don't have much to feed you with" Alex says to her as he digs through his refrigerator.

"It's fine" Dana laughs, flopping herself on his bed. "I didn't come here to mooch off you. You're the one who should be eating anyway!"

Dana is also the only other person in the universe who can tell him to do anything, and he'd do it. So they just talk as Alex heats himself a microwavable TV dinner, much like his date with Karen, they just catch up on life. Even with a phone and internet, Alex so rarely talks to anybody. He tends to feel guilty for not staying in constant contact with his sister. He normally reasons with himself that he nearly spent his entire childhood with her, it couldn't be that bad that they didn't spend as much time with each other, or didn't talk to each other enough.

But she always ends up here because she misses him, and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth because he knows no matter what, he's still been ignoring her.

"Have you been okay?" Dana suddenly asks him. Alex just stares at her in confusion as he picks through his dinner. "I mean, have you been doing alright? You've been taking care of yourself, haven't you?"

"Of course I have been" Alex reassures her. "I should be asking you the same question, shouldn't I?"

And he forces himself to smile at her. Even now, he can't bring himself to appear weak to her. To tell her how sick he's been, how tired. It's something that's carried over from childhood, when she would look up at him like he was an almighty god, a force to be reckoned with that loved her no matter what. He forgets she's not ten anymore, that she's an adult and can take care of herself, and knows a lie when she hears one. The look she gives him only confirms it.

_How lovely of you…lying to your little sister. Just can't let anyone care about you, huh?_


	4. The Paper Money's Whirling By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup. Who missed me?

It happened when he was washing down the shelves that held the packaged meats during the day. Alex was having a hot debate with himself, a shelf of cereal across the aisle as his only audience, when in between breaths he heard it. A roaring _taptaptaptaptap_ from the ceiling. A rare sound to hear, but a sound he oh so loves regardless. Alex drops the rag and stumbles his to the front of the store to walk out the still open doors to stand out in the suddenly pouring rain.

It's raining. RAINING. Something that happened so rarely here, yet, here it was all the same. And he laughs. And laughs, and laughs out of pure happiness because it's all he can really ask for. Their final few customers of the night give him odd looks as they dash to their cars in the wet darkness, but does he care what they think? Nope. Not when this kind of weather is enough to put him in an insanely good mood.

"Hey, Alex!" Dan calls out from the door. "When you're done being crazy, could you lock the doors when you come back in?"

 

* * *

 

It stops raining long enough for that ride all the way home. But there's plenty of puddles to ride his bike through, and plenty of trees to ride under heavy with rain and dripping onto his head. And Alex just fucking loves it. He is nearly soaked to the bone by the time he slides off his bike to shove it under the stairs to his apartment. It's so worth it though.

He stomps up the stairs to his door, and as he's unlocking it, a moving wet rag follows him up to meow pathetically at him. It takes Alex a moment to realize what the rag is, and he stands there in this doorway trying to figure out what to do with it. Pale blue eyes are staring up at him pleadingly, and another few moments later, Alex holds the door open wide and Zeus zooms in ahead of him.

Inside, Alex changes out of his uniform and lets it hang to dry. He grabs a towel and oddly enough, Zeus sits still long enough for him to dry the furball off. Alex still has two hours before he needs to get back to work, so he flops on his bed and quickly falls asleep. He wakes up to find a Zeus curled up at his side. This is probably the cuddliest Zeus has gotten with someone like this.

Alex doesn't think much of it though. He lets Zeus out when he leaves for work again, and the cat zooms off to find somewhere dry to continue his nap.

 

* * *

 

Summer rolls around, the season Alex could so happily put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. Summer means summer sales, and watermelon and charcoal out the wazoo. Summer means all the schools are out so all these mothers are in the store with their wild, screaming children. Alex wants to run wild and scream too but not because he can, but because he knows he's going to genuinely go insane before the summer is over.

It's an annual thing.

Speaking of kids, summer is the worst because they'll get kids without parents wandering through the store of their volition. While mommy and daddy are at work all day, their shitty children are left to their own devices, and they all end up here somehow. Thirteen year olds getting macchiatos at the Starbucks counter, ten year olds swooping in to buy ice cream, a whole gaggle of teenagers coming in to just wander the aisles, and maybe one of them will buy a candy bar in the end. One of them.

Then June rolls away into July, and then it's even crazier as everyone prepares for their Fourth of July parties. And once that madness is over, Alex feels like he can finally relax a little, it's July, families are going on vacations now, everyone is taking off.

Well maybe not relax a little, but he gets a little excited because his own co-workers are trying to take off for a week. Which means maybe he might get a little extra for pay that week to cover someone who's not there. It means spending less and less time at home and more and more time at work but he could care less, Alex needs that little overtime pay.

 

* * *

 

Between Alex leaving the graveyard and him returning for the day shift, someone (probably Greene), has left a cupcake for him in the break room. Alex stares at it blankly, his name is written on it in flowery, red icing on chocolate frosting. There are no other cupcakes in sight, just this one. But he takes it anyway to scarf it down real quick before heading into his shift.

Greene does find him a bit later, launching herself into his arms and squealing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALLY-KINS!"

Alex is too stunned to say anything as she sloppily kisses his cheek then scurries off. He stands there frozen in the condiments aisle until he musters up the will to check his phone. It's July sixteenth. It it his birthday. He hadn't noticed. He was thirty-three today. Groaning, Alex goes back to stocking pickles, he's not int he mood to deal with himself.

Throughout the day, he gets texts from his sister, he gets texts from Karen, both wishing him the same thing, have a good birthday, let's meet up later I wanna treat you. He doesn't respond to either of them, but he keeps it in mind.

It's not until a couple days later on saturday that the weekend manager gives him the night off, he doesn't need to come in at nine, he deserves a break. Alex is far too shocked to argue. He figures there's been some meddling on a certain someone's part, but he just nods and goes home. As Alex bikes home, he pulls his phone out to text Karen;

_"So, you wanted to treat me?"_

 

* * *

 

Karen takes him to an admittedly nice restaurant. Not nice per say, but a little pricey, the kind of place that's more of a club and bar and for kids in their twenties, not thirty somethings like them. But they haven't done anything like this in _years_ , so Alex lets it slide.

"Happy birthday to me indeed" Alex can't help but purr as their drinks arrive, some blended fruity things that smell like sweet alcohol, but goddamn it tastes so good, reminds him of how he hasn't had a drink like this in a while.

"Just want you to feel special, old man" Karen smirks at him with a wink.

"I'm not that ollld" he whines at her. "Two more years and you can start calling me that"

She laughs, he laughs, they clink their glasses together and wait for their expensive food to come. They talk, and talk, and drink and eat, and it's such a relaxing evening knowing that some other poor sap is covering his shift right now. Alex fucking loves the weekend manager. Heller will probably throw a fit about it on monday, but fuck Heller, Alex is celebrating his birthday for the first time in five years.

The streets are practically empty by the time they leave. They go back to Karen's condo to drink more. Well, that and Alex isn't ready to go back to his box quite yet. The beer is pulled out, and they sit on her couch and make fun of B-movies on SyFy.

At some point they make their mistake. It was probably Alex. All he knows someone looked at the other, and they were kissing. They weren't as drunk as they could have hoped for, but there they were, sloppily making out on the couch, right where they should have been all along.

And they know their breaking point, lips parting from one another to stare at each other, blue eyes looking into green, and after that, they don't waste any time in taking things upstairs to the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

He awakens only slightly, shifting in bed, eyelids starting to flutter open when he's shushed and a hand is running through his hair. "Sorry" she apologizes. "It's okay, go back to sleep", and he does. When Alex awakens again, it's later in the morning, so much later, he hasn't slept in that long in a long time. Alex almost forgets where he is, looking around Karen's room in confusion until last night comes back to him.

He slips out of bed to dress, well, throw on his boxers and stumble downstairs. Karen is busy making coffee in her kitchen (the kitchen being the first thing one sees when they come down the stairs). She is just wearing a shirt, one too big for her and drapes down on her. Alex blinks at the shirt as he tries to place it, and when it dawns on him, he can't help but let out a breathy laugh.

"You still have it" he says, stepping into the kitchen to wrap his arms around her waist. "Was wondering where that had gone"

"I have a lot of your things" Karen says. "I some more of your shirts, your underwear-"

"What?"

"Some of your books, a pair of socks, and all your CDs"

"….Shit I was wondering what happened to those"

Alex didn't own very much, sure, but he didn't realize the reason was because his belongings weren't even in his own possession. "Well, thanks for holding my crap" he tells her, kissing her cheek. "You can keep it all, since you know, you've been taking such good care of it"

"At this rate I'm going to own you, Alex" Karen says as she sets the filter in the machine. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing in his opinion. In fact, he agrees to it without a second thought,

"I wouldn't mind that" he tells her and trails his lips down to her neck. "I wouldn't mind being yours again" and he keeps going down, sliding the shirt off her shoulder to kiss that too. She says his name, perhaps in an attempt to make him stop, he's not sure. He doesn't care. He slides a hand up the shirt, up her stomach and to one of her breasts.

"I forget how much of a morning person you are" Karen rolls her eyes, but does lean back into him, one of her arms coming up to reach behind them to slide around his neck. She rocks her hips back into his, and from there, they both know how this game will go and it ends exactly where anyone could hope it would.


	5. And I hardly just, just barely, only just survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trig. Warning
> 
> So. Depression. Who's ready to take a fun journey into that? As such, this chapter contains heavy mentions of depression and disassociation. So, you know, not your cup of tea, I advise you to turn back now and return for the next chapter whenever that comes.

Alex goes back to work and can't find himself able to concentrate properly. He spent the whole weekend at Karen's. Which was probably the worst thing he could have done, but Alex is is too high to care about it. He's dragging himself through work on Monday, his thoughts all elsewhere, still back in Karen's condo, still thinking about her… ****

_Get a fucking grip on yourself._

Alex snaps into reality, staring at one of the glass doors he's currently wiping down in the frozen foods section. He quickly glances around to make sure there's no one there to see him. There is one other person down on the other end of the aisle. Alex turns back to the freezer door.

_You've reached new levels of pathetic._

"I don't know what you're talking about" Alex quietly mutters.

_Stop thinking about her. Get over her. You know what you're doing right_

"No…"

_Setting yourself up for more pain and suffering. You always do this._

"I do not" and Alex is wiping at the glass a bit harder now.

_She doesn't love you, you know that right?_

"Of course she loves me"

_Not the way you want her to. You're such an idiot. You're falling back in love with her._

"What if I never fell out of it?"

_Stop. Shut up. Think about your life. Think about every aspect of it. You're a fucking joke, Mercer. Stop deluding yourself. You don't deserve her. She's too good for you. Even_ Greene _is too good for you. Stop pining for things you'll never have. Stop doing this to yourself._

Alex smacks his head against the freezer door with a dull thud. The cool of the glass seeps into his skin, and he sighs at the momentary sense of relief. He slides his eyes shut, takes a few deep breaths, he can get himself back under control, he know he can. He can function through the day, he has to. It's only ten in the morning.

 

* * *

 

It becomes the vicious repeating cycle for the week. It's one of those weeks where his insomnia has kicked it into high gear, and he's not even sleeping during those few precious hours he's at home. He finds himself at the McDonald's in the middle of the shopping complex more and more often. It's really just to get a hard coffee, none of that overpriced sugary crap from Starbucks.

Sure there's always coffee in the break room, but Alex can't stand to be at work during his breaks, he feels the need to get out of there and into a new environment for a while. So it's a two minute walk over to the famous golden arches and get a tall black coffee at three hundred degrees.

Greene leaves him alone for the most part, save for her usual little treats she usually showers him in. But this week, they don't help.

They don't help the next week either. And the week after that. And the week after that as well. Alex feels like he's slipped into a trance, and every time he blinks, he's doing something new, he's somewhere else, he's never sure where he is anymore. It should unsettle him that he's spacing out this bad, that he's letting himself fall this deep.

But he really can't bring himself to care.

 

* * *

 

Greene doesn't bring him just a treat from the counter today. She thrusts a small paper bag with a slice of cake inside at him, and scurries away once he's taken it. Alex is outside behind the store, a cigarette hanging off his lips ( he finally caved and bought a packet, it's a small, wonderful stress relief). Alex glances into the little bag, noting there's something else inside. He reaches in to pull it out.

It's a business card. Ragland Psychiatry. There's an email and phone number on the card that's been circled heavily in pen. Alex flips the card over. In her loopy handwriting, Green wrote to him;

_See him. He helps me, and he can help you too._

_Love, Elizabeth_

Alex shoves the card in his pocket,  rolls the bag up, and also stuffs it in his pocket. Some time later once he clocks back in, he passes Greene on his way through the store.

"Thanks" he says to her quietly.

"Get better, Alex" Elizabeth replies back.

 

* * *

 

 

"Heller. Hey, Heller! Hey come on, I'm talking to you! Don't fucking ignore me you piece of shit, _Heller_ "

James Heller finally swings around to face a red in the face Alex. Alex's chest is heaving, his voice near ready to break, looking up at his manager with utter disbelief written all over his face. "You can't do this to me, Heller. I need that extra time. I _need_ those shifts, you don't understand I-"

"Need to see a fucking doctor or some shit" Heller growls at him. "Getting real tired of your crap, Mercer. Your head's been up your ass for too long this time"

"It's only been two weeks!"

"Try a _month_ , Mercer. Get your act together. Maybe I'll give you those shifts again when you're not crawling into the shelves for a breakdown"

Heller leaves it at that and marches away. Alex stares and gapes after him. The store continues to revolve on around him like it didn't care that he, Alex Mercer, was teetering over the edge into the land of instability.

 

* * *

 

 

He thinks maybe with all the extra sleep he can finally get, things will be better. Alex wakes with the moon and sleeps with the sun. At least, that's what he would be doing if he could actually sleep. It's so weird and bizarre to be home so often. He hates it. He hates the box. He hates the prison. He hates every damn thing about it.

Alex has no where to go during the day. He sits on the steps to his apartment, head cradled in his hands, trying to will the day go by faster so he can get to work. Zeus will sit in his lap, or next to him, sit somewhere near him. Sometimes offering silent support, other times, obsessively licking at his crotch, leg freakishly outstretched.

He has the card Greene gave him magnetized to this refrigerator. He still hasn't called yet, still hasn't made an appointment. He simply doesn't have the money to even begin thinking about therapy. He can barely cover the rent for this month as it is, and he already begged Cross for a little more time, just a little more until the next paycheck.

Frankly, Alex feels like he's fighting a battle he has no hope of winning. He can't even think of how he wants to tackle it. He feels so alone, sitting here on his doorstep, just trying to think he can make it through the day and the night in perfect succession without breaking even more. He hasn't spoken to anyone he cared about in a while. Dana and Karen keep calling him and leaving him messages, and they come around to check on him. He makes it a point to not be home, or just not answer.

So it hurts more, knowing he's pushing them away when they're probably worried as hell about him. He doesn't know what to say to them, doesn't know how to explain. Alex Mercer used to be too prideful of a man to ask for help. But now, he was too shamed to do anything except plod through life.

Just him, Him, and the fucking cat.

 


	6. Ooh I'm Livin on the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: heavy discussion of mental illness and recovery, and what recovery feels like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeey, wooooow, long time no seeeeeee. uhhhhhhmmmm.....well this is awkward, but here's a new chapter, at long last, and uhhhhhhh, i promise it won't take me three years to update again, yay!

The room wasn’t what he was expecting it to be. Alex honestly thought it’d be the same as every other psychologist’s room on TV. The long couch, a bunch of bookshelves, a barely lit room. But instead it looked like a regular office. There was the doctor’s desk, looked like a regular desk with a normal computer and amount of papers stacked on it. There was a couch, flanked by end tables on either side, box of tissues on them. The room was warmly lit, meant to be relaxing, the walls painted a soothing blue.

He sat down on the couch and reclined into the cushions, breathing slowly to keep himself calm, cause goddammit if he wasn’t nervous as hell.

“So Alex,” Dr. Ragland said to him, sitting down in his chair, clipboard in hand, pen at the ready. “Let’s talk.”

“Okay,” Alex replied simply.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Alex?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Simple things. Where do you work right now? What schools did you go to?”

“I just work at Pavilions. Got my bachelor’s at UCLA.”

“Ahh, I see. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was a great school, I really liked it..”

“And your master’s?”

“Stanford.”

“My my, you’ve done very well for yourself,” Ragland smiled warmly.

“Yeah, I guessed I did,” Alex smiled back, a bit sheepishly.

“Annyy important relationships? Girlfriends?…Boyfriends?”

“Just a girlfriend, we met at Stanford. We didn’t date long.”

“Still keep in touch?”

“Frequently.”

Dr. Ragland hummed and nodded as he scribbled at his clipboard.

“So, let’s talk about why you’re here, Alex.”

“I’m sick, doc.”

“What kind of sick?”

“In the head. I’m fucking mental. And it’s getting to the point where it’s severely interrupting my daily life.”

“How so? Describe a normal day for you to me.”

Alex sighed, and paused to think for a minute before answering. A normal day, as far as he was aware. He’d wake up in the middle of the day, feeling fucking miserable. Lie around in bed for an hour, then get up and crawl into the shower. Maybe sit there under the water for however, but not too long, water bill gets expensive as fuck. Crawl out of shower, find something to eat. He doesn’t bother with preparing full meals anymore, he just grabs the first thing he finds and devours it.

So that could be maybe a hot pocket. Or maybe a sleeve of crackers. A lukewarm can of soup. Maybe depending on how badly he was disassociating, it suddenly would be time to get ready for work. So he throws on his uniform, bikes down the street, maybe gets there a little too early, maybe just barely cutting it to clocking in.

From there, it’s all a blur. Maybe sometimes he’ll snap back into reality when someone comes to find him and tell him to take his break, or he’ll drop something that makes a loud enough noise to wake him up. He does that all night, then goes back home, flops into bed, usually without changing, and passes out until the next day.

He hadn’t spoken to his own sister in weeks until he finally asked her to help him set up the very appointment they were having right now. Dr. Ragland said nothing, just hummed and nodded, maybe said “I see”, or “Go on”. Alex finally stopped talking, and looked to him for some sort of answer.

“….So what do _you_ think is wrong, Alex?” Dr. Ragland finally asked. Alex gaped at him, struggling to say something back.

“I don’t know! You’re supposed to tell me!” Alex snarled.

“Let me be more specific then. What do you think all your symptoms add up to?” Dr. Ragland clarified. “Do you think you have depression? Do you think you’re bi-polar?”

“Oh,” Alex said. “Well….I guess…Yeah, both? Maybe? Can I have both?”

“It’s possible,” Dr. Ragland shrugged.

“So what can you do?”

“Well, for now, I can prescribe medication tackling specific symptoms. Have you had any previous diagnosis that I should know about?”

“Nope,” Alex shook his head.

“Alright then, so let’s take it on step at a time then. For now, we can focus on, well, your focus. Help you stay in reality, so to speak. Or we can go after what might be the depression, since that can stir up all sorts of other symptoms for other things. Whatever you wanna do.”

“S-sure, yeah. We can do that.” Alex nodded.

“Excellent,” Dr. Ragland beamed. “I can write you up for a prescription in a bit. We still have some time, is there anything else you’d like to get off your chest while you’re here?”

“Oh doc,” Alex sighed. “Do I got some stories for you.”

**x-X-X-x**

Alex had always been a bit of a lonely kid. Okay, super lonely. Like, reaaaally lonely. Kinda what happened when he spent the first near decade of his life in the foster care system, being tossed around from family to family, city to city. Always a new school, a new home, a new everything.

So Alex ended up being extremely anti-social. It didn’t help that he had trouble being social at all. He didn’t like making eye contact, couldn’t play right with the other kids. Didn’t like loud noises, got overwhelmed easily. He was bullied for mercilessly. Even after he was given back to his mother, he still didn’t know how to act or what to do. Didn’t matter much, cause she basically came home and pushed Dana into his arms one day, and all but expected him to take care of her while she did…Whatever.

He had plenty of time to focus on schoolwork and his studies between baby naps, or having to be awake all night cause Dana would _refuse_ to sleep longer than thirty minutes. He tried joining clubs in his high school years, mainly just to get some extra curricular activities on his transcript. Chess club, mathletes, the (at the time) budding and growing computer club. Never had any friends in those, he just showed up and sat in corner, and strongly willed himself to participate on his good days.

In hindsight, the depression had been there all along, as well as the undiagnosed autism that Ragland pointed out during one of their sessions. Out of Alex’s control, but had anyone known at the time, perhaps things could have been handled better. Because despite all the advances in the medical world, they were only so recent, and way after Alex’s time.

Being able to look back at his childhood and pick everything apart and put it back together was a blessing. That, and the medication. Holy shit, things were great on drugs. They didn’t make all his problems go away, but after a few months, things really seemed to improve? Alex didn’t feel as miserable as before? Not even the usual transition of summer to fall brought him down that bad.

It was still there, but it could have been worse. He talked to his sister more, and even to Karen more. Kept them updated on his progress. And they were happy for him. Things were even getting better at work. Greene had been oddly nice to him? Not her usual creepy, touchy-grabby stalker self. But more…Polite? Kind? Actually keeping her distance?

Why she couldn’t do that before, he had no idea, but he also had a better idea of how things worked now in the world of the mentally ill.

Nothing was perfect yet though, and that was okay. But…But there was still something that was off. And he couldn’t really put his finger on it. Alex often found himself sitting on the stairs to his door, rumbly-grumbly-purring Zeus in his lap, rubbing the feline behemoth behind one ear in thought.

The simple fact of the matter was, and Alex eventually figured it out, was that this is what “normal” was supposed to feel like. And he…didn’t like it? He liked not being a fucking wreck twenty-four seven, he actually got shit done when he wasn’t severely breaking down over everything. That was pretty nice. But he had gone well over thirty years dealing with all this shit, and suddenly it was…not there? Lessened? It was honestly scary.

Because who was really Alex Mercer without all that? Noting went away, but it just…wasn’t the same. The doors were being blown wide open as he learned to cope with everything. Still didn’t feel right though. He had a new crisis growing that shook him to his core every time he thought about it.

He wasn’t exactly one hundred percent _himself_ anymore, and it was a scarier thing than any boogeyman or voice in his head ever could be. And he honestly didn't know what to do about it or how to fix it.


End file.
